Ran Chen - A Private Life

After we had wound our way downstairs and entered the reception room, I gave the place a cursory survey. The lighting was muted, and each of the grottoes had its own natural setting, with winding paths leading to sequestered nooks. Each one was thoughtfully decorated to fit a particular theme, with every detail accounted for, so that they were independent of one another, each with its own distinct flavor. It goes without saying that the place had its own special charm and appeal.

The owner came out to welcome us. After a spirited exchange of greetings with his old army buddy, Ti turned to me and said, "This is the village head, Mr. Zhao."

"Village head?" I queried.

Mr. Zhao said, "We've taken our ideas from the archaeological remains of the Banpo tribal village, and used Banpo culture as the theme of our restaurant. That's why we call it a village. So I'm the present village head, and you, my dear, are now one of our citizens."

Mr. Zhao then gave us a guided tour of the restaurant's six separate grottoes. We went into the bar first. A group of Qin dynasty terra-cotta warriors stood guard in one corner, and a number of niches for the display of a variety of bottled liquors had been cut into the walls. The bar itself was decorated with lengths of ancient, crude hempen rope, and in the cupboards behind it was a display of pottery bowls with the "face-and-fish" motifs, well buckets, colored ceramic jars, and records kept on knotted strings and wooden slips used by the original citizens of Banpo.

Zhao said, "We'll show you around first, and then you can decide where you'd like to eat."

We looked at the "Tribal Chieftain's Grotto" first. Ti said he was sure that the drawings on the walls depicted the story of Hou Yi, the monarch of the Xia dynasty state of Youqiong, shooting the sun with his bow, and agricultural and hunting scenes of the people of Banpo. There were already a number of diners enjoying a noisy meal there, so we looked into the "Fish Room." The walls were covered with ancient pictographic inscriptions. This "fish and worm" writing bespoke the incomparable satisfaction that goes with sipping fine wine as one softly hums a beautiful tune. Next, we went into the "Han Room," which was richly decorated with black dragon and white tiger designs taken from the ends of eaves tiles. A sculpture of a Han dynasty raconteur sat commandingly in the center of the grotto as if he were still telling tales of past and present glories.

Then, the "village head" solemnly recommended the "Yinyang Grotto" to us. When Ti and I entered the room, we were immediately struck by its muted, candlelit ambience and the walls covered with paintings of Han dancing beauties and a series of romantic images of lovemaking.

Ti immediately said, "Here – we'll eat here."

And now there were only two people in the Yinyang Grotto – Mr. Ti and his student, an initiate in the world of love.

Deliriously happy, he filled the entire table with dishes and wine for her. She had never before sampled such a feast of flavors. Along with a bottle of the finest Madeira, there was bitter vegetable, fiddlehead ferns, whole scorpions in a bed of chrysanthemum petals, spiced golden cicadas, garland chrysanthemum, monkey legs, five-colored shredded squid, scallops in their own shells, gold and silver venison, lotus-flower longans in chilled soup…

When everything had been served, the waitresses withdrew, and the door to the grotto closed with a discreet click.

Their glasses filled, they toasted each other and began sampling delicacies seemingly created for the lips of the gods. Ti's eyes glowed in the soft light, and his powerful body showed a gentleness reminiscent of a stallion with his mare. All the anxiety and despair had been taken from his face, and the distress in his eyes had vanished like clouds. Without cease he told her of his love for her and his desire for her. He begged her that she never again bring up the old business of their life in school. He swore that everything he had done in those days had run against his real feelings, that it had happened because of his helplessness in the face of her total lack of response, but that now he was a single man who adored her youthful beauty and romanticism and could express his love to her because she was no longer his student.

By this time, he had moved around to sit beside her, and she listened to him with gentle and trusting attentiveness. Her sleepy eyes glittering and her usual defensiveness shed, she began to lean slowly toward him.

His breath began to quicken as he placed a hand upon her shoulder.

Her resistence melted away, and all her old feelings of hostility toward him vanished in an instant.

Her eyes closed in seeming invitation, as if awaiting the moment when his fingers would touch her, and her body felt like it was covered with mouths panting with longing.

She could hear his heavy breathing close behind her as his hands slipped around her to touch her breasts and the hot breath from his lips mingled with her hair.

"Niuniu, Niuniu," he called out softly.

Suddenly possessed by wild desire, she turned eagerly toward him, and wrapping her slender arms and legs around his body as if to become one with him, she pressed her bosom against the mysterious beating of his heart.

His arms enclosed her in a tight embrace.

They drank some more, and encouraged by the heat of the wine, he began exploring her body with his hands. He cupped her breasts in his hands like prizes won in battle. Like ripe fruits under her thin dress, sticking up perkily, their nipples erect, they pleased him far beyond her accomplishments in school. Her body seemed to melt in his hands. Pouting her wet, glistening lips as if she were going to whistle, she laid her head on his shoulder and began kissing his ear.

Turning her so that she was looking at the scenes of lovemaking on the wall, he told her that there was nothing in life more beautiful than this. He drew her to him again, her legs spread apart sitting on his lap, and again she felt the marvelous heat of that "third hand," which was working feverishly between her legs as if trying to bury itself.

Eventually he could no longer curb his lust, and begged her to let him take her there in the Yinyang Grotto. Overcome with fear and passion, she half refused, half accepted him. Without saying yes or no, she closed her eyes and waited in shame for him to undo their clothing and let their sexes come together to complete that most shining moment in a virgin's life.

The moment he had hoped and thirsted for for so many years had arrived. His dream come true, he moaned with uncontrollable ecstasy, his eyes filled with a love that glowed with the soft sheen of silk. But she was caught in a conflict of feelings. When she looked at the man before her, held in the agony of his love, her passion welled up within her, and this momentary passion made her former animosity slip away through her fingers like passing time. But she was not gripped by any feeling of love for him. All she felt was the lust that had been aroused in her body and the urge to use his body to reach that deep ecstasy she had never totally experienced before. What she delighted in was this sensual ecstasy, not this man before her. She was twined in his arms only for this feeling of close sexual intimacy. Now, her sexual desire was much more fierce than any lingering trace of her previous abhorrence of it. She was totally unprepared for her descent into this realm. Her mind and her body had distanced themselves from each other. She had become another person, controlled totally by her body's need for sexual gratification.

As she surrendered to the pleasure of her natural feelings, she felt a sudden, tearing pain.

Like a bolt of lightning, this lucid pain cast a bright glow on the skin of her entire body and throughout her innermost being. She could not help but cover her face with her hands…